


Classical Pursuits

by ezlebe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Equestrian Sport, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezlebe/pseuds/ezlebe
Summary: Hux goes quiet during the firing and hammering, and a quick peek upward shows he truly is watching Ren’s every move. He doesn’t even have his phone out, as some of the other distrustful types tend to when Ren’s not working on the horse.“May I ask what had you look into being a farrier?”"Too hard to make a living just on swords," Ren says, gently lifting Millicent's hoof to his knees, then trying the fit of the shoe again and finding it better after smoke clears. “Customer told me to look into this.”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 148





	Classical Pursuits

Armitage Hux is one of the types that watches like a hawk, peering down his nose with a neutral frown across a heart shaped mouth. It's a little unsettling, as if he’s preparing to pass judgment, and difficult to discern yet if it’s because he heard something or if he's just a control freak.

"Do you often come to the competitions?" Hux asks, from his chosen post barely a yard or so away, standing like a bouncer with his arms crossed."I've not seen you before."

"A few," Ren says, awkwardly speaking around a pair of nails in his lips. He leans back slightly, looking at the fit of the shoe, then drops the hoof and goes back to the anvil.

Hux goes quiet during the firing and hammering, and a quick peek upward shows he truly is watching Ren’s every move. He doesn’t even have his phone out, as some of the other distrustful types tend to when Ren’s not working on the horse.

“May I ask what had you look into being a farrier?”

"Too hard to make a living just on swords," Ren says, gently lifting Millicent's hoof to his knees, then trying the fit again and finding it better after smoke clears. “Customer told me to look into this.”

"Ah," Hux intones, “I did notice your accent, as well," he says, leaning in that much closer. "Have you been here long?"

Ren waits to answer until he's done hammering the first nail – is he being interviewed now? "My mom was the ambassador in the Nineties," he says, twisting off the end, then turning the hammer back for another nail. "Decided to stay."

"I see," Hux says, drawing attention to his booted feet with a curious squaring of his heels. His voice seems to drop slightly, "Sweetheart or something?"

_Sweetheart_? Who says that - ? Wait a second.

Ren peeks upward, hammer loosening in his fingers; he nervously spins the head around the handle. "Why?"

"Only curious," Hux says, lifting his chin some, as if daring Ren to argue.

"No," Ren says, glancing back down and deciding to take a risk just before he tightens his grip and positions the next nail. "No boyfriend. Just liked the country."

He’s pretty sure that the few seconds of noise will settle any discomfort if he’s reading this all wrong, though it doesn’t quite keep _him_ from feeling awkward. It does give him an excuse to look down, at least, to concentrate on the hoof between his knees, rather than wondering what the silence could mean as he goes around the rest of the hoof with a few more nails.

He risks a glance up while reaching for a file, readying for discontent, only to find Hux’s instead smirking. He looks back down and finishes the filing with a different kind of nervousness manifesting, biting at the inside of his lip. He’s probably reading this wrong; Hux is a professional dressage rider, demonstrably posh, so it’s unlikely he would be interested in a guy covered in soot and horse hair.

Ren grimaces when Millicent chooses now to shift, digging her hoof a little too far up for comfort. He stands and lets it go, watching her step experimentally on the new shoe. He went for a different fit, with a toe angle – it should keep her better balanced.

Hux reaches out to steady her with a low hum, then steps forward to take the hoof in Ren's place, looking across it with a discerning eye and a frown. He nods shortly and looks up. "Good work."

Ren blinks, startled by a heat across the back of his neck. "Sure."

"Millicent's never been so agreeable for a farrier, you know," Hux says, straightening with a short wipe of his hands against each other. "I might have to bring you to Japan."

Ren swallows shallow against the intense stare and forces himself to shrug. "I've been. The airport."

"I could say the same," Hux says, bright lashes flickering up and down Ren in an obvious once-over. "Lost opportunity."

"Yeah," Ren says, looking to his kit with a rub at the warmth across the back of his neck. He doesn't know why Hux even thinks he's going to the Olympics - he's probably good, if he's here, but Ren's barely even heard of him. Granted, he doesn't really _watch_ dressage, only a few clips here or there to get a feeling of how a certain shoe might work.

"Armitage!" A sharp voice calls, soon revealed to be from Rae Sloane herself bearing a stern expression and a helmet under her arm.

Ren feels an urge to shove up his things into the truck bed and bolt. He knows Sloane isn’t going to like seeing him, probably will even ruin whatever thing that’s going on between him and Hux by telling him about what Ren did to _her_ stable.

…He paid to fix it. Mostly.

"Ms Sloane," Hux says, lifting his chin in greeting.

"Has that shoe been replaced?" Rae asks, eyes narrowing and clearly making her own judgment of Millicent's ability to stand at level. "Good."

Ren raises his brows - had _Sloane_ recommended him? Maybe she did forgive him.

"Perhaps Ultimatum will have some actual competition today," Rae says, nodding in the direction of the arena. "I saw Canady's jowls quaking when he saw the both of us on the docket."

"He does seem to have little confidence in Peavey," Hux says, mouth pursing some and falling quiet for a beat, then suddenly he looks to Ren with one brow quirking high. "Do you attend his horses?"

Ren shakes his head.

"He's a boor," Hux says, glancing back to Rae and prompting an acknowledging tilt of her head. "Very little understanding of the animal under him."

"Little is understatement," Sloane says, suddenly catching Ren in an odd glance for a short, intense beat, then looking back to Hux with a neutral smirk. "Now you're back from Lexington, we won't have to suffer him."

Lexington _, Kentucky_? Ren can't quite imagine it.

Hux responds with a tip of his head, only to then look brusquely back to Ren. "Will you be here throughout the competition?"

Ren hadn't planned on it - he likes horses, but hasn't ever had much interest in watching them dance outside studying how to make the shoes better. Except... "Yeah. Sure."

Sloane spares Ren an even longer look now, heavy and thoughtful, before rolling her eyes and lifting her helmet to place on her head. "Thirty minutes before opening."

Hux gives a stiff nod.

"Good man," Sloane says, turning to march off.

"Close to Sloane?" Ren mutters, kneeling to gather his kit.

"She trained me, actually," Hux says, moving to lead Millicent out of the way. "I've always found it odd how she encourages me even competing against her."

Ren tips his head back and forth, then glances up to catch Hux's eye, only to find him already staring back. "Sounds like she wanted competition, so she made it."

Hux responds with a scoff. "Doubtful."

* * *

Ren realizes about halfway through the first routine that dressage still bores him. His preferred sport involves more weapons, more speed, which is exactly the opposite of... dancing. He suffers through it though, off to the edge of the stands and away from the formally dressed patrons, waiting for Hux.

He watches Rae exit the arena, her and Ultimatum trotting with heads held high, before he realizes that one of the neatly folded papers that everyone else has might be useful. He turns on a heel, aiming for the spectator entrance, and has one foot at the edge of the walkway when he hears the speaker above briskly announce Hux’s name.

Ren learns that Millicent's name is Garde Melisende as he settles back on the fence, and that Hux's helmet doesn't hide the fiery stripe of sideburns.

Hux seems comfortable, even smug, while he rides into the arena, focused only on the path ahead of him as he comes to a stop in the center. The music starts on a beat almost like a thunderclap, proceeding smoothly into something not-quite-classical, and it quickly becomes clear that the whole routine is similarly grand. Hux is attuned to Millicent in a manner than makes it look like he’s riding on a simple daily stroll while Millicent seems to almost leave the ground while she steps sideways or kicks outward.

The transitions are imperceptible, practiced to no fault. It's a far better show than that of Peavey or Unamo, even Rae, who went before him, suffering stops or starts as the horse under then ran into confusion of a command.

Ren can see now why Hux expects to be in the Olympics

Hux ends his routine with his first look out of the arena, gazing out into the audience, and Ren is curious before eyes suddenly lands on him. The stare is steady for a beat before he looks away with the customary nod, patting Millicent, as if he hadn't caught on Ren at all.

He watches Hux leave the arena, listening to the mutters of the people above him that seem to actually know of Hux. It sounds like he used to be a jumper, and an equally good one, judging by the people tutting about the waste despite the talent just witnessed. Ren pushes off the barrier when the next rider is announced, turning his back as they parade out on a big bay – he was only watching for one routine.

Hux is talking to Millicent when Ren makes his way down to her stall, but it's low and little more than susurration. He listens for a few seconds, nodding hard to assure himself before stepping the few feet further to have Hux notice him.

"No problem with the shoe?"

Hux looks backward with a start, quiet for a moment. "No. Couldn't you tell?"

"No," Ren admits, though he thought Millicent looked fine, he wasn't exactly along for the ride. "It's not really my choice of sport."

Hux blinks at him, then hums, frowning some. "Oh."

"I joust," Ren says, trying to recover from the apparent misstep. "That's more my thing."

Hux raises an incredulous brow. "In 2019."

"Ren faires."

"Is that where you get your name?" Hux asks, stepping to the other side of Millicent.

Ren blinks and takes a breath, bemused, "No?"

"Sloane told me it was a nickname," Hux says, pulling off the bridle with a distinct lowering of his voice. "If I've offended."

Ren grimaces at the mention of Sloane, but tries to remember that he _might_ get her business back – she hadn’t seemed still angry with him. "No. Mistake with handwriting as a kid. It stuck."

Hux hums lowly, rubbing up and down Millicent's bare nose with the heel of his hand.

"Do you have to go back out?" Ren asks, leaning against the stall door.

"Once they've announced the scores," Hux says, stepping over to settle beside Ren with a tut. "A while yet, with this venue."

Ren nods and looks down, staring at their feet and wondering what to say – he wants Hux to look at him like he’s interesting again, but isn’t sure how it happened to begin with. His usual attempts at romance start and end quick in clubs, and usually he’s not wearing _chaps_. Although. "No outfit?"

Hux is quiet a beat, huffs, "Not here."

"Sucks," Ren says, clicking his tongue and getting distracted some by trying to imagine."Would've liked to see that."

"You will," Hux says, oddly confident, shoulder brushing up against Ren’s with the sparest pressure. "My next formal is August."

Ren looks over, rolling his lips together for a beat. "Are you going to be first? Or will I have to sit through four other people again?"

"I have little control over that," Hux says, looking back with a taunting raised eyebrow. "You may have to watch every single routine."

"Great," Ren says, drawing out the word.

Hux rolls his eyes, then narrows them, glancing up and down Ren with that interested edge. “Are you a very talented... _jouster_?"

"Me and my horse are big," Ren says, shrugging slightly – he does alright, but it’s not something one can be _good_ at this century. "And fast."

Hux is quiet a pair of seconds. "Not quite an answer, is that?"

"It's not a real competition, most of them," Ren admits, though he does often pretend, which he likes to think makes his role little more authentic. He knows, at least, that it makes it feel like it. “Exhibitions."

"I'm sure it's still something I could sit through in return," Hux says, mouth settling with thoughtful quirk. "Is it not? But I'd like to set my expectations."

Ren rolls his eyes, a prickle of heat over his ears. "I'm good. For what it is."

"Promising," Hux says, humming low.

Ren clears his throat, wondering why Hux's eyes on him drive a flush under his skin - actually no, he knows why. He's having a hard time bringing himself to do anything about it. "Yeah. It would… It would definitely make up for sitting through this. If you went to one. With me."

"Might have to do coffee first," Hux says, gesturing slightly before crossing his arms with a tap at his own elbow. "Or a ride."

"Silon can be an asshole," Ren admits, unsure if he wants him anywhere around a papered dressage horse.

"Millicent bites everyone she meets," Hux says, tutting slightly and suddenly his boot is lined up with Ren's foot.

Ren looks over to where Millicent is nosing an empty bucket. "Not me."

"Indeed not," Hux says, with a particular gravity.

Ren raises his brows, disbelief risking the entire anxious conversation. "You've been hitting on me because of your horse?"

Hux lifts his chin in admission. "She's a very harsh critic."

Ren takes a breath, feeling the corner of his lips twitching down.

"You're attractive, as well," Hux says, looking back to Ren only to huff, a smirk peeking at his mouth and borderline condescending. "Stop with that face. I hardly ask after everyone who offers her a carrot."

"Sure," Ren mutters, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

"The fact Millicent likes you is a bonus," Hux says, shifting even closer now, though not quite heavy against Ren’s side. "And the fact that if any of this goes anywhere, I won't have to pay for her to be shoed."

Ren raises a brow, then tips his head. "Still have to pay somehow."

Hux gestures again, lifting his fingers from his arm to briefly flick at some vague direction. "Alternate currency."

"Don't need to wait until it goes anywhere for that," Ren says, ignoring heat over his cheeks while he tries to sound confident.

"That right?" Hux says, a smug look in his eyes when he leans in even further and now with weight, his height making his mouth very, very close. "What are your 'alternate' rates?"

Ren blinks and realizes uneasily that he's got nothing, only able to wonder how far the line is going to go – it's mid-afternoon at a stable that costs more per week than he'd like to think about, not to mention he's known Hux for... Two hours? It's not really the place for a hook-up. He opens his mouth, hoping he might quickly come up with something through the power of awkward, only for the shuffle of boots to solve the problem for him.

"Hux, the – Oh," Unamo pauses, eyes darting to Ren in surprise before looking back to Hux, her voice less certain. "Ending ceremony."

"Alright," Hux says, stepping away and reaching for the hanging bridle with a nod.

Unamo peeks to Ren again just before stepping backward to her own stall.

"Dinner?" Hux asks, directing a resistant Millicent back into her bridle. The flirting tone hasn't quite ceased, but he's less concentrated, now more concerned with gathering his helmet and putting on his gloves.

Ren finds his eyes drawn to the movement, shrugging and feeling off-balance.

"Yes or no," Hux says firmly, brows raised when Ren looks up to his face. "Ren."

"Yes," Ren says, reaching out and helping push open the stable gate. He's startled slightly by how easy it is to answer, as if he wants to please Hux somehow, and like he has all afternoon. "Yeah."

"Do you have any other appointments?" Hux asks, turning and looking down the stable with a kit of his chin. “

Ren manages not to grimace. “You were my only one."

Hux blinks and then oddly frowns. "You weren't here for another horse?"

"Just trying to get work," Ren admits, feeling a sinking sensation behind his sternum. He could do with never talking about what happened again, but Hux is bound to find out sooner rather than later, especially with Sloane being his mentor. "Business kind of fell off after I -" he rolls his eyes, "I destroyed an antique bell and stall door at Sloane's."

Hux goes quiet for a worrying beat, then nods, pulling himself up onto Millicent's back. "Chin up, your reputation is already improving."

"Thanks," Ren says, feeling his mouth twist down at the corner. Is that all he’s got to say?

"Would you prefer text or call?"

Ren blinks.

"For later."

Ren shrugs vaguely, trying not to feel too anxious, and steps back when Millicent shifts sideways with a telling shift of her head; she hasn’t bitten him _yet_.

"Either, then," Hux says, still and quiet another moment, before clearing his throat with his own evident awkwardness. "And to be clear, you are unattached?"

"Yeah," Ren mutters, pressing his lips into a line - it’s odd that Hux still… "You don't care? She's your coach."

" _She_ recommended me to you," Hux says, with an odd turn to his mouth, as if he doesn’t understand. "It's moot."

"And you really - " Ren takes a short breath, then looks back down the path to the arena. "You're serious about this? I met you today."

"If you'd left after shoeing her, I wouldn't be," Hux says, his voice thoughtful and eyes intense when caught in a glance. "But you watched my routine even though it bores you. That's rather flattering."

Ren scowls slightly when a shout for Hux's name rings through the air. "You made it interesting."

"A pub," Hux says, slowly nudging Millicent down the path. "No pressure, if you like, only to celebrate."

"You think you won?"

Hux offers a flat look. "Of course."

Ren rolls his eyes at Hux’s back.

* * *

Hux does win, and he's insufferable about it, though in a quieter way than Ren would be, only snidely explaining how the others could have raised their score percentages in ways Ren doesn't quite understand. He seems to enjoy trying to explain, though, pointing across the table like it's an arena.

“Sloane missed a shift change here,” Hux says, sliding a pepper mill halfway into the middle, then tipping it as if in a stumble. He pulls back a beat later, gesturing dismissively, “But Peavey, as expected, was entirely useless. If I had the money, I’d buy Fulminatrix from Canady and free the lot of them.”

Ren grunts in agreement. He has to admit that even he could see Peavey hadn’t looked particularly comfortable, though part of him wonders if it might have been less the horse and more the sport. If Hux was a former jumper, it wouldn’t be too odd for Peavey to be, as well.

"I like to think Millicent would be amenable, as she doesn’t seem to mind her next door," Hux says, taking a sip of his bourbon, smirking some, "But she did try to bite Canady when I was walking her to my trailer."

"You said she bites everyone?"

"Most," Hux admits, waving Ren off with a tut. "But that's hardly the point."

Ren shakes his head, trying to hide a smirk with a sip of sparkling water.

"Don't laugh," Hux says, his toe making firm contact with Ren's shin. "You can't mock me - I've just won."

Ren hisses, a little exaggerated, and kicks back only to startle when Hux catches his leg.

Hux eyes him for a beat, before looking away with another sip of his drink.

"Do you live near here?" Ren asks, realizing the next instant that he definitely said that out loud.

"Now who's being forward?" Hux counters, brow quirking just before he looks back, eyes narrowing in apparent amusement. "Yes. Sort of. You?"

Ren gestures in the vague direction of his house. "Ten minutes."

Hux is quiet for a few seconds, then tilts his head, "Is that a conversation starter or a hint?"

"Figure it out," Ren says, wetting his lips and breaking eye contact, glancing out the window to the street.

"I think we both know which one I'm going to lean toward."

Ren tips his head in agreement, feeling that heat across his ears return in full force. He peeks back a few seconds later. "So?"

Hux eyes him in turn, then leans back in his booth with a creak of leather. "I expect to meet your horse, as well. First."

Ren raises a brow. "Do you only trust horses?"

"Not only," Hux says, sipping the dregs from his glass with a cocksure look.

Ren answers with a smirk, feeling somehow less uncertain now, despite the odd ultimatum. "Alright. I guess I'll just have to hope that Silon thinks we're cool to fuck."

"No need to be so vulgar," Hux says, setting down his glass with a muted thunk. "Even if it is somewhat accurate."

Ren shoves in before Hux can pay, closing the tab while pulling his keys from his pocket. He hasn't had anyone over since Rey and her posse came over to needle him about mold, but it looks better now than it did. It's livable, at least, though Silon probably has the best room.

Hux doesn't have a car, so Ren leads him to his, parked at the curb at the end of the street. He moves old shoes and a pair of manuals, shoving back the passenger seat and biting his lip to keep from apologizing.

Hux has been trying to be part of the mess since the afternoon.

The drive is short and Ren tries not to be too awkward, or come on too hard, though it's tempting to make a comment when Hux curls up into himself on the passenger seat with both legs up near his chest like a human pretzel. The lack of riding gear has only made his legs longer.

The driveway is a little long out from the street, but it gives enough time for Hux to hum in interest, then follow it with one of disbelief. “When you were lamenting about losing work," he says, breaking the silence with a flat voice and leaning against the door panel, "I assumed you needed it."

"It's only nice on the outside," Ren says, thinking about how even that had taken a week with a power washer and a strong will. "Had to replace the wiring. And plumbing."

"Are you one of those mad reno people?" Hux asks, his voice lifting with apparent disbelief.

Ren shrugs while he slows at the front of the house, glancing himself over the little details – window trim and wrought iron rails – he’s tried to restore. "Not _really_? I inherited it."

"You said your mother was an ambassador from America," Hux says, glancing over through the corner of his eye, narrowing it slightly, "Didn't you?"

"She had parents, who had parents," Ren says, trying not to give into an untimely urge to drag Hux into his overly complicated family history. "Who had... stuff. And it mostly rotted."

Hux is quiet a moment, then scoffs outright. "What a waste."

Ren more than agrees, and the only reason he hasn't burned or sold it is the stable. He eases off the brake and drives further past the main house to the set of stalls out back, four in a row surrounded by wood and brick. He'd have a fifth if he didn't use it for storage, but he doesn't even need four. He could probably use one for the truck.

Hux opens the door once they’re parked and slips out of the truck slow, peering around like he's never seen the country.

Silon trots up to the edge of the paddock, pawing and snorting at the edge of the fence like he's hungry, as if Ren hadn't fed him little over two hours ago. He eyes sideways when Hux walks up beside Ren, throwing his head some, but no more nervous than he is at faires. He’s not used to more people than Ren in his territory, which isn't his fault, but he doesn't seem to mind Hux, recovering quick and nosing out when they got close enough in clear beg for a treat.

Ren reaches out and shoves his head away when close enough, rolling his eyes.

"I was thinking larger, for some reason," Hux says, holding out his hand for Silon to sniff. "A draft horse."

"He's mostly Friesian, maybe something else," Ren says, reaching out to stroke Silon's cheek with his knuckles for a pair of seconds. "He was trained for carriages, but didn't like it much. So he's mine now."

Hux hums lowly, leaning into the fence.

"He's okay by himself, at the rein," Ren says, taking a step to the side and toward the gate. He slips inside, walking up beside Silon with a pat at his back. "I think it was the other horses."

"Ah," Hux says, watching with a raised brow.

"He likes learning stuff, too," Ren says, tapping briefly at Silon's shoulder with a pair of fingers.

Silon bows nicely, holding for a few second until Ren clicks his tongue in signal.

"That is charming," Hux says, crossing his arms over the rail.

"Just little stuff," Ren says, clicking his tongue again and prompting Silon to back up with him for a few paces. "For faires."

"It hadn't occurred to me it was a show," Hux says, gesturing with a turn of his hand. "The jousting."

"Yeah, I guess," Ren says, shooing Silon again when he now tries to nose at his pockets. "We do have costumes and stuff."

“Fascinating,” Hux says, leaning into his own hand with that narrow eyed stare again, glancing up and down Ren with little subtlety.

"Has Silon passed the test?" Ren asks, leaning over the fence next to Hux; he’s trying not to volunteer to dress up right now, if that’s how Hux looks at him just imagining it. "Or should I make him bow again. It's his best trick. I bet Millicent can't do that."

"She could," Hux disagrees, raising an unimpressed brow. "If instructed how. And it wasn't a test for your horse, but yes, you've passed."

Ren tips his head, acknowledging that with a grunt and trying not to be too obvious about his smirk.

Hux suddenly turns around on the fence, pointing out toward the stalls with a pair of lifted fingers. “Do you board?"

Ren blinks, startled some by the question, and glances over to the little row of stalls. He's pretty sure it's obvious there are no other horses here. "No?"

“Not ever?" Hux prompts, drawing out the second word.

"Uh," Ren clears his throat, bemused, "I mean. Any horse would have to get along with Silon."

Hux is quiet for a beat, clearly thoughtful; it’s quickly become obvious that’s a dangerous expression. "Is he intact?"

Ren glances over to Simon pawing at grass and shakes his head.

"There's a start," Hux says, speaking careful and leaning back a bit over the fence, then tipping his head with an evident hint. "Perhaps, find someone who just got back to the country with a mare."

Ren nods slowly, then takes a breath, moving with a sidestep toward with gate. "I don't know if you've passed my test, for that."

"Oh?" Hux tuts, only to fall quiet for a beat. "...Is this an actual test or innuendo?"

"Figure it out," Ren repeats, then bites his lip at Hux's flat look. "Don't know. Probably both"

Hux looks out to the paddock, rolling his lips together before abruptly narrowing his focus with a look back at Ren. "I'd still like to see the stable. Should I pass."

Ren rolls his eyes, reluctantly finding Hux's surety disarming. He's never had someone hit on him so hard, and he'd be suspicious if Hux wasn't so concentrated on the horses.

Hux leans into an empty stall, eyes darting at corners. "Did you rebuild these? They're rather modern."

"Yeah," Ren says, taking a step forward past him, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking across the unused stall mat. "Like I said, everything was rotting."

Hux follows him in slow, one hand trailing across the stall door, then the wall. He's quiet for a few seconds, mouth twitching in thought, then looks up with his first glance of hesitation all day. "I'd like a chance to board Millicent. We can keep professional from here, if you'd prefer."

Ren stares for a beat, frustration welling at the back of his throat; spending half his budget on the stable is having worse consequences than the financial. He exhales hard, tapping briefly at his thigh in a countdown. "It's not you - it's... not. I don't know."

Hux’s brow furrows while he frowns.

"Can I decide after?" Ren asks in a rush, knowing already that he'll probably say yes, even if Hux's habit of just _deciding things_ will drive him crazy. "After tonight."

"Yes," Hux says, almost careful, his suddenly hand encircling Ren's wrist for a brief squeeze. "You can."

"Okay," Ren says with a swallow, feeling muscle relax that he hadn't noticed tightening in his shoulders. He counts again, inhaling, then exhaling; it's not even something to panic about.

Yet.

Maybe not ever.

"Ren," Hux says, his hand squeezing again, "Could I kiss you?"

Ren looks up, catching Hux's eyes and feeling different nerves creep in, more expectant than worrisome. He tilts his head in a nod. "I've been waiting for you to."

Hux smirks and his other hand lands with cool fingers over Ren's cheek, his thumb distracting with a light stroke.

Ren leans into the hand when Hux shifts forward, easing into the kiss and struggling only some with his nose, then realizing his lips must be chapped when Hux’s seem so soft.

Hux doesn't seem remotely bothered by it, though, squeezing Ren's wrist tighter in the next instant and using it to pull him in, settling them close together with a trace of his smile across Ren's mouth. It's the only warning before he opens his mouth with a barely perceptible hum.

Ren lifts his free hand to clutch at Hux's waist, digging fingers into a pressed shirt and letting his back hit the stall wall when Hux moves in that direction. He hooks his ankle across Hux's foot, rolling his hips up, and hears himself whine some when Hux pulls back. He glances distractedly down across Hux’s mouth, flushed and wet, before looking up to his eyes with a bite of his own lips. He inhales a deep breath, belatedly realizing that he's forgotten he needs it.

"Is your own room this nice?" Hux asks quietly, still only an inch or so away.

"No," Ren says honestly, feeling a laugh at the edge of his next breath. "Pretty drafty. Bed's alright, though."

Hux taps at Ren's lips with his thumb. "I could do to see that, as well."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted On Twitter 
> 
> I can be found there [ @ ezlebe](https://twitter.com/ezlebe?lang=en) ~


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